


Cold.

by Boycott_Love



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Implied Mpreg, M/M, there aren't many tags that need to go here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-18 17:52:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3578511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boycott_Love/pseuds/Boycott_Love
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>I still couldn't hate or hurt him because...because I still love him.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Never made an mpreg before so if it sucks... ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

He was supposed to be mine.

He was supposed to be with me forever, have a life together. We even made plans for our future. _Our_ future. But he left me, like a lone leaf hanging from the branch of a barren tree, alone until the wind carries it elsewhere.

Two years.

Two years is how long he stayed, the best two years of my life if I'm honest. There was no fair warning, the day before he left was such a happy one. We had dinner and watched movies together, cuddled up on the couch as the TV flashed in the darkness, laughing, smiling, kissing. What reason would he have to leave while I was at work? He was happy, I know he was, I was happy too. I loved him, he was my heart and soul, but was I his? Did he love me, I thought he did, I could've _sworn_ that he did. Maybe he just...stopped.

I wanted to hate him for dropping me like dead weight, throwing me away like I'm trash. I wanted to hurt him like he did me, smash his heart into pieces and stomp on the remains. But even if I had the chance I still couldn't hate or hurt him because...because I still love him. But it's too late, he'd already moved on to someone else. 

Some asshole named Bob Bryar. He was tall, muscular, blond, I guess that's what Patrick wanted. I didn't know him, I only called Bob an asshole because he took my love away then knocked him up. Yeah, he got my Patrick pregnant. He's carrying a life inside of him that should be mine, that should've been us settling down and having a family together. But he chose Bob over me.

This isn't one of those scenarios where I say ' _as_ _long_ _as_ _he's_ _happy_ , _I'm_ _happy_ ' because it isn't true. The happier he is, the more miserable I become. The only way I'll be happy is if he comes back to me, I'll only be happy if he's with me. No one else. I miss him.

Seven months and that's still how I feel about it. He and Bob got together almost immediately after he left me.

One day I had somehow come across Bob's Instagram. It's none of my business and I shouldn't look through it but I do anyway. I just want to see if I'll find Patrick within any of the photos. And I do. Tons of them. Some of them are of both Bob and Patrick, they look happy with each other. It makes me sick. But there are some that are just of Patrick and I can see his baby bump. I smile without realizing it. It's beautiful, _he's_ beautiful. I could never bring myself to hate Patrick, no matter how much I want to. He always looks so damn stunning that I forget he's gone, remembering the times I would wake up beside him and see his soft form sleeping peacefully. I'll never see it again.

I find out that Patrick has the baby much sooner than expected, about a month and a half early to be exact. I linger around on any social websites Patrick may be on so I can stay posted. I can't help but be worried. What if something goes wrong, what if the baby doesn't make it or Patrick.... I try and shut my mind off. Why do I care so fucking much, why does Patrick have such a tight grip on my heart when I know my own grip was pried from his? Goddammit.

I await news of the baby and pictures and my heart is pounding in my chest and the suspense is _killing_ me! After what seems like hours someone finally posts something, a picture of Patrick and the baby.

It's a boy. He's beautiful, so fucking beautiful. He has Patrick's gorgeous blue eyes, his pouty lips, a head full of dark curls... wait. Then it hits me. Oh my god.

That's not Bob's baby.

 


	2. What Happened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided not to leave you guys hanging.

**[Eight Months Earlier]**

 

There was so much going on lately. Work has become more demanding and I've hardly had any time off for nearly two weeks. Patrick's been trying to help but he's been really moody lately. I don't know what it is, it feels like we're starting to drift apart, but that's the last thing that I want for us. I don't want to flush our entire relationship down the toilet just because we're treading through a rough patch. With all the stress of work crushing me and the lack of sleep I'm getting, right now is when I need Patrick the most. He'll know what to do, he always does.

We've also been disagreeing a lot more, and by 'disagreeing' I mean fighting. Arguing over every little thing that holds no significance whatsoever. It's so stupid and I wish it would stop but it creeps up on us at the most unexpected times. I can't say that it's always Patrick who starts it because then I'd be a liar, it's mostly me. I'll admit to that. I'm insensitive sometimes but mainly I don't think before I speak. It's a curse. Some of the things that slip out are supposed to only be in my own head, I guess I vocalize my thoughts. And it gets me in trouble. But it's becoming a regular occurrence and I can't seem to pull myself out of this mess that I've created. Patrick's finding it harder to forgive me, I can tell, and I find myself sleeping on the couch more often than I'd like, but I can't blame Patrick because it's not his fault. I try to make it up to him but it just turns into more fighting.

So much has gone to shit because of me. We had so much planned but we never had time to actually put them into action or had to put it off for another time. I planned on proposing. Patrick, of course, didn't know but I wanted to commit to him and make him mine. This rough patch will dissolve and we'd be happy again like before, we just had to wait for all this shit to blow over. 

One night, I had gotten brave and tried to make everything up to Patrick again. Usually it doesn't get too far before we're yelling at each other, but I didn't want to give up, I wanted to keep trying. For us. I don't know, maybe it'll be different and we can move past this. I took him out to dinner, it was the same restaurant where we had our first date. And I was a nervous wreck all over again, like history was repeating itself or I somehow flew back in time to when I first asked Patrick out. My palms were sweating and my heart was racing only this time it was because I was worried about another fight. Throughout our whole night I was waiting for it to happen but it didn't, and I was glad. We even laughed and smiled and the actions almost felt foreign because it had been quite some time since we've done anything other than piss each other off. It felt like the world was changing, and it was.

Afterward, we had returned home but it was only eight p.m. so I suggested watching a few movies until we got tired. The air between us felt different, better, happier. I could feel it and I know Patrick did too. It was almost like we were two years younger and all the happiness had returned from an extended vacation. Where it went, I don't know, but it was back and everything felt right again. We ended up falling asleep on the couch halfway through  _Pretty in Pink,_  (it wasone of Patrick's favorite movies and I wanted to make sure we watched it tonight) Patrick curled up against me. 

But the next day, everything just...paused. My breathing, my life, my heart beat. It felt like the life was sucked out of me and the oxygen was shut off. Patrick was gone. Not a single trace of his existence was left behind. Everything he owned just vanished like a cruel magic trick, without a word or warning, he just disappeared. And I had the feeling he wouldn't ever come back, but I desperately wanted him here right now to tell me that he's not really gone. Tell me that everything's okay, tell me that he loves me like he did before I left for work. Now that he's not here, I wonder if he meant it, I wondered if he really loved me after all this time. But if he didn't then why would he have stayed with me for so long? I wasn't rich, so it couldn't have been for money, I wasn't...I just- he said he'd always be here for me. Why'd he leave me like this, I thought everything was getting better, I thought wewere changing. Why?

In the end though, I was right about one thing; the world really was changing. But not for the better, because my world was crashing down.

 

**[Present Day]**

 

That's not Bob's baby. Holy shit, that's not Bob's baby! Once I saw the picture it was quite obvious that it didn't belong to him because one: the child carried absolutely  _no_ resemblance to him and, two: both Patrick and Bob have very light hair (not to mention that their hair is also  _straight)_ , Bob's a fucking blond and Patrick is very close to it. Why would the kid have such dark (curly) hair, it didn't make any sense. It just adds to the list of questions I have piled up in my brain at the moment. Maybe he's still at the hospital, maybe I could go and visit him and see the kid, I just...I just need to see him. But I didn't know which hospital he's in and I wasn't sure who all knew about Patrick's pregnancy. If I know him as well as I think I do then maybe he only told close friends and immediate family like his parents and Joe and Andy and maybe Brendon.

I found myself dialing Joe's number without much thought. There's no way that Patrick didn't tell him, him and Andy were like a second family almost, they  _had_ to know. The phone rang once...twice...

"Hello?" I never thought I'd be so happy to hear Joe's voice.

"Hey, It's Pete."

"Oh hey man! Dude-" He was cut off by something that sounded like...crying?

"What is that? Is that-"

"You should be here, where are you? You need to see this!" Joe exclaims, excited.

Be where? What is it that I need to see? "What are you talking about?"

"Everybody is here but you. When are you- Andy what the fuck?!" Then Andy is the one speaking to me over the phone. "Hospital. Room 127, see you when you get here." Then the line goes dead and, okay, that's really all I wanted to here. Not all of Joe's questions that I didn't have an answer to. I don't know why I wasn't there but I needed to be.

 

***

 

I made it to the hospital in under ten minutes, mostly because I was speeding and I was surprised that I didn't get pulled over along the way. I didn't need to ask the lady at the front desk where Patrick was because I already knew, and on my way down the hall I ignored her when she kept calling out 'sir' behind me. This is the first time I've set foot in a hospital since...well, I don't remember. But I don't like hospitals is my point, and I'm only here for my boyfr- ex-boyfriend because he just had a child a month and a half earlier than he should have. I couldn't help but wonder how Bob must be reacting to this, if he notices that the little bundle  _clearly_ isn't his. If he has, hopefully he's not there and if he hasn't then he will. Patrick has to know, and if he doesn't tell him then I will.

I finally come across the room Andy had informed me of and peeked through the window just to double check. I recognized a few people in the room and saw Joe's unmistakable hair. This is it, Patrick is on the other side of that door. Seven months and I will be face to face with Patrick once again. What am I going to say to him? Now I'm second guessing myself, I'm not sure if I want to open the door or if I actually want to see Patrick. No, I do want to see Patrick, and that's the reason I'm here.

I slowly turn the knob then push the door open, Joe is the first one to look my way. He smiles and motions for me to come over and join everyone else surrounding Patrick. I take my time getting there at first before Joe rolls his eyes, grabs my arm and pulls me over to the hospital bed. I look around the group and notice that Bob isn't around. Maybe he did realize it wasn't his after all. And I was right, Patrick told everyone close to him. Except me. We were together for two years, why didn't he tell me?

"Pete?" Patrick's voice nearly makes my heart stop. I never thought I'd hear it again.

"Why didn't you tell me?" It came out more like a whisper than anything and I'm surprised he even heard it.

"I didn't think you'd want to know."

Joe soon motions for everyone to leave the room and give us a moment. I constantly thank god for Joe Trohman. I step a little closer to the bed and instantly my eyes are drawn to the small sleeping baby boy in Patrick's arms. He reminded me of Patrick when he slept, soft and peaceful. "Why would you think that?"

Patrick hesitates a moment before saying, "Because of the way I left. I didn't want to but-"

"You made me believe that things were going to be okay," I interrupted. "then you just took all your shit and left me without rhyme or reason. Why?" My voice cracked on the last word, attempting to hold back everything I felt during my time without Patrick; the anger, the sadness, the pain, the heartache, even tears. 

"I couldn't take the fighting, Pete." I could tell he was trying not to yell but barely succeeded. "Even though that last night we spent together was nice, I knew that we'd end up yelling at each other again. It's happened before. And there was so much I wanted to tell you before then but I just...couldn't. I thought we'd be better off without each other."

How could he say something like that? I lost my composure entirely just then, like something just snapped. "I needed you," I shouted. "There were so many times I wanted to give up my own existence, and you weren't there to talk to me. You weren't there for me like you said you would be. Instead you ran off with some fucking asshole-"

"Don't talk about the father of my child like that!" Patrick shouted back.

"Bullshit!" The baby began to stir in Patrick's arms whining a bit as he did so, but otherwise stayed asleep. Heavy sleeper. Then I spoke a little softer, "How long are you going to keep this up?"

"What are you talking about?"

"How long are you going to keep lying to Bob, did you tell him it was his? What are you trying to hide, huh?"

Patrick doesn't respond, he only glares daggers into me. It's happening again, the arguing. Even when there's a sleeping baby in the room we can't stop fighting. I thought we were past that rough patch. Or maybe it's just me. I never forgave him for leaving, I'm still pissed and yet I've missed him so much and I need him in my life.

"I love you." I broke the small, heavy silence between us, and I can tell that it catches Patrick off guard. I don't need him to say it back, I just need to make sure he knows. His expression softens and his eyes widen but, I could be seeing things, it looks like there are tears in his eyes. I don't want to see that, I don't want to see him cry. If I do, I swear I'll break down so I instead look down at the child. He's still sleeping soundly and taking tiny, even breaths. He truly is beautiful. He gets that from Patrick. I can't take my eyes off of that tiny human being. "What's his name?"

"I wanted to name him Lewis, but...I don't know."

Of every name in existence why would he pick that one? Well, half of my middle name was Lewis but I didn't have a say in that. If I could choose anything else it definitely wouldn't be  _that._ It'd be something cool like, uh, Bronx or something, but of course it'd sound weird with the rest of my name. But 'Lewis' for the name of a newborn? Is it like 'Lewis Stump' or if...hold on..

"Who's kid is it?" I ask.

Patrick doesn't answer. Alright so that must mean that Bob really isn't the father, but I already knew that, if he was then Patrick would've said that right away. Or maybe Patrick doesn't know but... _okay, think Pete. If Patrick won't tell you then you'll have to figure it out on your own._  I look at the child for a moment then think back to when Patrick had left. It was seven months ago and he just had the baby today, even if he would've carried the baby to term then he would've had to have met Bob before me. But that can't be right, I was Patrick's...

I was his first.

The baby is "Mine." I whispered to myself.

"What?"

I look up at Patrick. "The baby. He's mine, isn't he?"

Patrick was quiet a moment. He looked back at me and I could almost see a smile form on his face. Why would he be smiling? "I was about six weeks when I left."

"Patrick, why the hell didn't you tell me? We probably wouldn't have fought nearly as much if I knew, I could've taken care of both of you."

"I wanted to tell you but it was never a good time. Bob thought he was his until he laid eyes on him, and it didn't help that I wanted to name him after you. So he left. I wanted to feel sad about him leaving but I didn't. Guess I was lying to myself more than I thought."

I found myself smiling like an idiot. He didn't love Bob and didn't have his kid. That's my baby,  _my son._  That's why he picked Lewis then, he wanted to name him after me. I wonder if he had my last name in mind too.

"I never meant to hurt you, Pete." Patrick says. "I thought leaving was the right choice but I was wrong, I'm sorry. I love you, always have."

And he still loves me. I went over to him and hugged both Patrick and my newborn son and that's when we decided to let our tears shed. Even baby Lewis stirred awake and started to wail, but he was probably hungry. "I regret leaving you like that, Pete. I'm so sorry."

I kissed his temple. "Water under the bridge. Just,  _please_ , don't ever leave me like that again. Promise me?"

Patrick nods. "Promise." 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm addicted to happy endings because they make me happy (obviously)and unhappy endings bum me out. But I might write something with an unhappy end some day. Maybe.


End file.
